Page 9 of X's and O's
I had no idea what was going on. I struggled to crane my head back far enough to peek out through a small gap in the curtains covering the window behind me. I didn’thave a good view, but there were definitely two men at the door.
Neither was wearing a pizza delivery uniform.
A new fear trickled down my spine. Paul clearly wasn’t a good man. And the two on the porch definitely weren’t here to deliver his dinner.
I was suddenly glad I hadn’t been able to call out to them loud enough to get their attention. I was now pretty sure I didn’t want it.
Paul’s voice trembled. “Who are you?”
The driver tutted beneath his breath, and there were footsteps across Paul’s hardwood floor. Multiple sets. Were they in the house?
I twisted my head in the opposite direction and caught sight of two big men entering the main living area. Both were as tall as Paul but younger, maybe in their early thirties. While Paul looked like a middle-aged suburban dad, these two moved like panthers stalking prey, all laser focus, broad shoulders, and rippling muscle.
An air of danger followed them. One that was so palpable I wasn’t surprised Paul was crapping himself.
Not from the lactose intolerance either.
Together, they forced Paul back. They had a similar appearance, both with dark hair and the sort of natural tan my pale skin would have killed for. But the first one, the one I thought of as the driver, took the lead.
He cocked his head to the side. “First you don’t offer us any cheese. And now you don’t even know my name? But I know yours. And it’s not because you ordered pizza, Pauly. Little secret? I already ate the whole thing. And it didn’t make me shit myself.”
“This is the weirdest killing I’ve ever been to,” his friend murmured behind his back. “I don’t know if I’m hungry or ready to vomit.”
Every muscle in my body froze. Had he just said this was a killing?
All of their attention had been focused on Paul up until now, but were they actually here for me? My fingers shook, and I twisted my wrists harder, ignoring the feeling that warned I was about to dislocate something. My body screamed for me to stop, but I forced myself to push past it.
My hand slipped out of the binding.
I stared down at it like I was seeing things, but no, I definitely had a hand out. Oh my God. I glanced up to check nobody had seen me, but the men were solely concentrated on each other.
Paul put his hands up, his gaze darting between the two of them. “I didn’t do anything! I swear! I’m innocent!”
A knife dropped down the driver’s sleeve, and he wrapped his fingers around the handle.
I stared at it, horrified by how sharp it looked, and how completely unaware of it I’d been until his big reveal. Clearly Paul hadn’t noticed either.
As quickly as I dared, I started working on the knots holding my ankles together.
The man motioned the deadly sharp point toward Paul. “You’ve got one chance to tell us the truth. Admit what you did.”
Paul backed up, knocking over a lamp that went crashing to the floor. “Fine! I did it! I abducted those women. Killed them. I can’t help it. It’s not my fault!”
I had to swallow down bile. He wasn’t just going to rape me. He’d been planning on killing me all along.
The knots on one leg loosened.
Paul kept babbling, “They were just so tempting. All pretty hair and tits and ass. So easy to manipulate and control.”
His hand drifted to his crotch and rubbed it.
“Oh, fuck off,” the friend muttered. “Definitely not hungry anymore. Gag.”
Driver didn’t say a word. With a single lunge, his knife split Paul’s gut open. He moved so quick it was clear he’d done this before. Over and over, he plunged it deep into my attacker’s stomach, his hot blood spurting everywhere, covering Driver’s clothes, but he didn’t seem to care. Blood pooled on the floor beneath Paul’s body, spreading rapidly by the second.
Because Driver didn’t stop. He just kept stabbing his knife into Paul’s flesh.
Sticky red coated the killer’s hands. His clothes. His face. But he didn’t stop.
